“I remember when she called and said that if we wanted the triplets, we had to come and get them, or she would put them up for adoption. Triplets, can you believe it? Not married, no job, nothing but a drug addiction she didn’t want to control. We should have said no. That’s what I know now. Why didn’t we just say no and let them go?”
He had no answer. Maybe at the time, they thought they could love the kids. But had they? Instead, he said, “Your heart wanted them. They were a part of your daughter, you and John.”
She huffed. “I was selfish, and what did it get me? Nothing. They’re gone.”
He said with more control than he felt, “Hazel is here, and you have John Henry.”
Rose shook her head. “It would have been easier if Hazel had just been in that car too.”
“Rose, do not talk like that.” He didn’t want to hear anyone wish Hazel dead. Especially someone who is supposed to love her unconditionally.
“I never understood Hazel. The other two were easy. Hazel has always had her head in the clouds, letting things happen. No real gumption,” Rose mused, more to herself than to him.
“She’s been trying to please you,” he reminded her, because she needed to be told.
“Then she brought home that baby. I can’t raise another baby,” she said in disbelief, as if Hazel wasn’t there every day taking care of her son.
“From what I’ve seen, she’s raising John Henry.” He was not being a supportive pastor anymore. He was defending Hazel because someone had to.
“She goes out and leaves him to read books with her friends. I spend all day with him and then she goes out with her friends.”
“She isn’t doing that often.”
“Often enough. Today she’s having her friends finish harvesting for her. Her job.” The woman didn’t even try to disguise the disgust in her voice.
“Everything suddenly being placed on her shoulders was a surprise. She needs help, Rose. It’s a lot of work for one person. And John Henry is too young to go with her,” he replied because he knew she came so close to doing everything by herself.
“Her grandfather did it every year with no help. She didn’t even try,” Rose argued.
“You have to take help when it is offered until John is ready to farm again,” he said.
Rose looked at the hospital door across from them. “John is not going to come out of this able to work anymore. I plan to sell the farm and move us to the retirement community. We’ve wanted to for years, but we couldn’t because of Hazel. I know Hazel can’t manage it anyway.”
“What about John Henry? What if he wanted to farm one day, farm the land his family has always farmed? Be the next generation?” It was why Hazel was farming, for her son’s future. Didn’t his great-grandparents want that same dream for him?
“I’m not going to wait around for a baby to take over the farm. Look what happened when we waited for Henry to take over? He died,” she spat out.
“Does Hazel know? It’s her job, her life.” Her everything. Had they ever planned to leave it to her? Had they wanted her around?
“She doesn’t care about the farm. Never has,” Rose said. “Doesn’t care about anything, not her grandpa, not me. Has she come to see him, us? No.”
“I talked to her, and she doesn’t like hospitals.” He watched her face, no reaction. Did she even realize what she had done to the child by forcing her to see her siblings’ dead bodies?
“She never has.” She shrugged, as if she wasn’t the reason behind that.
Before what?his mind screamed at the woman.Before you made her look at her dead siblings?He needed to get away from her. He was getting madder at her with every word she spoke. “I’m going to go in and pray for John.” He got up and walked into the room behind Rose.
In the dim room, he walked to the bed and looked down at the man who was hooked up to beeping machines. He looked old and tired, even though he was sleeping.
Picking up his hand, he prayed for the man to recover and to be a better grandfather to his remaining granddaughter. He prayed that he would recover and finally be the grandfather the woman needed him to be.
CHAPTER13
The fields were bare,and the people were gone, and Hazel was alone with John Henry. Though the boy was napping, which meant that Hazel was alone. Sitting on the front porch swing, she lazily let the breeze move her. Her legs were pulled up under her, enjoying relaxing after a busy day.
It was around 2:00 p.m., and everything was done. Well, she had to cultivate, but that could wait for a while. In her heart, she knew it was her last harvest. Even if her grandfather recovered, he would never farm again. She was never going to farm by herself. Today had taught her that she didn’t have the heart for it like Math did.
But what did she have the heart for? There was nothing but music that interested her, and music wasn’t a job. A job was what she needed to take care of her son. To take care of herself.